


bring home a haunting

by QuickYoke, youngbloodbuzz



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Dubious Deployment of Britishisms, Emotionally Abusive Mothers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous Chapter Lengths, Mentions of homophobia, Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, accidental love triangle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickYoke/pseuds/QuickYoke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngbloodbuzz/pseuds/youngbloodbuzz
Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Edmund O'Mara, Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 42
Kudos: 101





	1. I: 1987

> _“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces_

* * *

* * *

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

* * *

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. _Their_ things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

* * *

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

* * *

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand. 

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. _Mikey._ You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was _definitely_ not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

* * *

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, _home._

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!” 

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on _our_ home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled _Jamie’s Mixtape (1978)_ in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case _._ And finally, an old battered copy of _Valley of the Dolls_ , where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they maneuvered a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

* * *

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

* * *

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of _Desert Hearts_. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just _hold on_ for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be ' _yes.’_ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: _A Batter Place._

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

_“Jamie Taylor?”_

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It _must_ be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room. 

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”


	2. II: 1972

Danielle had never meant to delve into the habit of eavesdropping. She didn’t particularly like it, knowing it was a rude practice, but one developed out of necessity. It was a risk, sitting near the top of the stairs with an empty glass in hand, overhearing her mom’s daily phone gossip. If her mom were to step out of the living room and see Danielle there, she wouldn’t be happy at all. But after nearly a year of cold shoulders and being kept in the dark, there was a strange comfort in hearing the ongoings of their small town. 

There was a new family in North Liberty. A woman and a young girl her age, spotted moving into one of those old houses by the decommissioned train tracks. And it was without a doubt the most exciting thing to happen in decades. 

“And they’re British too?” her mom said with a small gasp. “How exotic. God, if only it were a man. The Lord knows I’ve been sick and tired of the men in this town, it’d be so refreshing to meet someone new and distinguished.”

Danielle twisted her mouth when her mom laughed. All she had wanted was another glass of orange juice and a sandwich, her stomach growling uncomfortably, but the news of a new girl at school was too intriguing. This though — the discomforting reminder of the revolving door of strange men knocking on their door to take her mom out on dates well into the night until Danielle couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer as she waited for her to return — it left her curling up into herself as her stomach twisted tight.

She didn’t like those nights. She didn’t like having to carefully peek open mom’s bedroom door to see if she was back, biting at her nails, only to find Karen asleep on the living room couch, smelling strongly of smoke and alcohol, still dressed in her nice clothes from the night before. It was almost as if dad never had existed at all. It left a rotten feeling in her stomach that she never knew what to do with except to drape a blanket over her mom’s sleeping form and help herself to some breakfast. 

But it was the smoke now that enticed her back into action, thin ropey entrails floating from the living room upstairs towards her. She winced and choked down a cough, and considered for a moment whether it was worth sticking around to make herself a late lunch, or sneaking out to the O’Mara’s across the street and trouble Judy for something more filling. 

By next week, on the first day of school, everyone seemed to know. 

Her mom had dropped her off nearly an hour early, flustered and late for work with a sharp grit to her teeth, leaving Danielle to sit alone on a bench by the playground. With the late August sun hot on her back and shoulders as she waited, head buried in a book, she had ample opportunity to observe the rippling wave of gossip underlying the happy reunions and chatter as other kids piled into the schoolyard. 

A familiar beige car rolled up to the curb and Danielle sat up straighter. From this distance, she could spot a pile of boys scrambling out of the car with half-hearted waves of goodbye. When the car remained idling on the curb as the boys made their way into the yard, something tugged at Danielle to stand, to rush over and say her hellos and receive her well wishes. Just as soon as the thought emerged, the car slowly took off down the street. 

Carson was the first to spot her, his arm waving so enthusiastically that it shook his small frame. She laughed and waved back. Eddie followed suit, his round glasses flaring in the sunlight as he started toward her mid-wave. The other two, the twins David and Tommy — older than the rest and already towering over them in both stature and something they claimed to be emotional maturity — merely raised their hands before wandering off into the crowd of kids. Danielle refrained from rolling her eyes, but only just. 

“Have you seen her yet?” Eddie asked in lieu of greeting. 

Danielle shrugged. “No. We don’t even know what she looks like.”

“How hard could it be?” He said, bouncing on his toes with his hands clutching the strap of his new satchel as he keenly scanned the horizon of the crowded schoolyard. “We know what everyone else looks like, right?”

“Do you think she speaks funny?” Carson asked, hovering just behind Eddie. 

Eddie spun around and sighed, as if just now noticing that his baby brother had followed him. “Why would she speak funny? She’s British, not an alien.”

Carson shrugged before turning a smile towards Danielle, and said, “Hi.”

“Hi, Carson,” Danielle said, patting the space next to her on the bench. “You wanna sit with me?”

Carson’s eyes lit up and he scrambled to sit with an eager grin. 

“Danielle,” Eddie hissed with a displeased frown when she caught his eye. She offered him a weak grin and a shrug. He looked to his brother and said, “Carson, don’t you have friends?”

Carson shrugged with a non-committal hum, not meeting either of their gazes. “Yeah. Lots.”

“Why don’t you go hang out with them before school starts, then?”

“But Danielle is my friend too.”

Danielle bumped her shoulder with his, matching his wide grin. 

Eddie huffed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Fine.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait long to lay eyes on the already infamous new girl. Homeroom was buzzing when Danielle found her seat in the middle of the room. Whispered wishes of hoping she’d be in their class that year. Witness remarks of catching sight of the girl as she was escorted into a side door by the principal, colorfully narrated in between questions on if she was actually as pretty as they said; the answer had been an unflattering snort. Danielle buried her nose back in her book, even as Eddie in the seat next to her twisted away towards the gossip. 

By the time the bell finally rang to start the new year, there was still a hum of restless energy as everyone quieted down and their teacher, Mrs. Walker, introduced herself to the class and took attendance. But a knock on the door, a sharp staccato, both promising and sudden, made the class erupt again into whispers and laughter. Without looking, Eddie reached out over the aisle and rapidly tapped at Danielle's arm. Caught up in the energy of the room, she grinned and pushed his hand away. Just as abruptly as sound had erupted in the room, it was just as quick to cease.

A drop of a pin could be heard as Principal Davis escorted a young girl into the room with a hand on her shoulder. It were as if all the air in the room had been sucked out by way of twenty-odd kids holding their breath in anticipation. Danielle leaned forward in her desk, unable to help herself, biting at her nail. She zeroed on the new girl, and tilted her head curiously at what she saw.

She was smaller than Danielle had imagined. Petite and hunched over, as if curling up on herself with her hands stuffed firmly and stiffly in the pockets of blue overalls that seemed a size too small for her. Long brown hair strung over one shoulder in a braid and eyes stared a hole into the linoleum floor with a firm frown. 

Danielle blinked, and thought with a surprising clarity, she  _ was _ pretty. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Principal Davis said, guiding the girl directly to the front of the room and staring firmly down his nose at them. “As I’m sure you’re all well aware by now, we have a new student.”

Tearing her gaze from the girl, Danielle risked a glance around the room. No one uttered a word, all of them transfixed. 

Principal Davis continued. “I expect you all to show her your utmost hospitality, and welcome her to our school and town. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Danielle murmured along with the rest of the class.

He smiled in that unpleasant way of his. “Good,” he said, and nodded towards Mrs. Walker before showing himself out. 

The sound of the door shutting echoed loud in the once again dead silent room. Danielle’s eyes strayed to the girl again, knitting her brows as the girl stood tense and alone at the front, shifting on her feet. 

“Well,” Mrs. Walker finally said, voice uncomfortably loud in the unusual quiet. “Why don’t you tell us your name, sweetheart?” The girl’s eyes flickered around the floor as she twisted her mouth, looking almost hesitant. “Go on. We’ve all been waiting to meet you.”

“Name's Jamie,” she said, eyes remaining firmly to the floor.   


“Jamie…?”

“Jamie Taylor.”

Snickers and hushed giggles spread across the room, along with a loud whisper. “Isn’t that a boy's name?” 

“Quiet,” Mrs. Walker drawled with a stern stare. When the noise died down again, she turned back to Jamie with a smile that seemed too saccharine. “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

Danielle frowned at Mrs. Walker, sparing another glance towards an increasingly tense Jamie. Surely, Mrs. Walker could see Jamie was uncomfortable, even Danielle could see that, suddenly all too aware of the anxious twisting of her own stomach as she watched Jamie stew silently. 

She didn’t know Mrs. Walker very well — just as much as any other kid in the room — but Tommy and David had once told her and Eddie that she had given another boy detention for yawning obnoxiously loud. So naturally, Danielle planned on being on her best behavior for the entire school year. 

“Well?” Mrs. Walker said, quirking an impatient eyebrow. 

Jamie shrugged. “What’s there to say?”

“Anything,” Mrs Walker said. “Tell us three things.”

When it became clear that Mrs. Walker wasn’t going to let her leave, wasn’t going to let her sit and hide away from being showcased like a prize animal at the state fair, Jamie finally cracked and rolled her eyes. 

“Fine. M’ten years old, I’m from Lancashire, and I hate the Beatles. Can I sit now?” She said it in one long rush of breath, rough and sharp all at once. 

Mrs. Walker’s mouth thinned, and after a brief tense silence, she finally relented with a sigh. “Yes, you may,” she said and gestured towards the class. “Sit behind Danielle. There’s a seat there for you.”

Danielle straightened at the sound of her name, and suddenly all eyes were on her. She struggled not to shrink down in her seat as a round of snickers made its way around the room again, and Jamie’s eyes finally lifted from the floor for the first time and darted towards Danielle’s direction. For one brief moment, their eyes met and Danielle almost made the stupid mistake of lifting her hand in an awkward wave. Instead, her mouth curled in what she hoped was something close to a sympathetic smile and not a grimace. 

Jamie blinked for a moment before returning her gaze back to the floor, her jaw hard-set as she stiffly and swiftly strode down the aisle to the desk behind Danielle, roughly settling into her seat with a loud screech of the chair against the floor. Wincing at the sound, Danielle somehow refrained from turning around and offering another smile. As Mrs. Walker finally resumed her syllabus introductions, the low exhale behind her was telling enough. 

Another day maybe, Danielle thought. Another time.

* * *

The first week back went by in a similar fashion. Almost worse now that the student body had finally seen Jamie and decided she was some grand celebrity. The rumor mill churned steadily, and much to Danielle’s silent horror, continued to spew more outlandish things that she’d never repeat in polite company. The novelty of the new girl, as it were, hadn’t worn off yet. 

After a few weeks into the school year, somehow, throughout all of it, against all good reason, Jamie remained as silent as she’d been on that first day, barely saying a word unless called upon. Danielle still offered Jamie a quick smile when she would arrive to class each morning, briefly catching her eye on the way to her seat. But instead of smiling back, or showing any signs of acknowledgment at all, Jamie would duck her head and take her seat without a word. 

But when it came to recess and lunch, Danielle would usually spy her sprinting at top speed across the grounds to disappear around the corner or inside the school, followed by a small group of students a good distance behind her, jeering as they went. 

“Why are they chasing her?” Carson asked one day after such an event, sliding next to Danielle where she and Eddie sat on the ground against the brick walls of the school. 

“Chasing who?” Eddie muttered, head buried in a thick tome that said  _ Lord of the Rings _ on the front. 

“Jamie,” Danielle replied, her own book held, forgotten, in her hands as she stared with a frown in the direction the group went. 

Eddie shrugged. “They’re probably playing, or something.”

“It didn’t look like she was playing,” Carson said, unconvinced. “Shouldn’t we tell someone?”

A part of Danielle was inclined to agree, but Eddie finally pulled his attention away from his book to give his brother a troubled frown. 

“You shouldn’t get involved with things like that,” he said. 

“But —” 

“It’s none of our business,” Eddie interrupted with finality in his voice, and shrugged again. “She seems like trouble anyways. Kyle said she called Jackie 'a daft cow' and stomped on her foot before running away the other day.”

Danielle had to bite her lip to refrain from laughing as Carson’s face twisted in bewilderment. “What does that even mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She’s weird. Just stay away and don’t get involved,” Eddie said, and stared at them both long enough for them to nod in agreement before returning to his book as if that was the end of it, satisfied with the outcome of setting things straight.

Danielle met Carson’s gaze and the pair shrugged in tandem. While Danielle still felt unsettled, Carson seemed mollified at Eddie’s guidance, and he reached into his lunch bag to pull out ziploc bags. 

“Mom packed you some snacks again,” he said, holding it out to Danielle.

Warmed to her bones, thoughts of Jamie briefly forgotten, she gratefully took the bags. "Thanks."

"Do you want to come over for dinner again?" 

Hearing that, Eddie's eyes jerked up from his book, and he looked at Danielle with an encouraging nod.

Danielle's hand froze in the bag, midway through fishing out a handful of cashews. The urge to accept the offer was overwhelming. The alternative was making herself a cold, barely palatable dinner and waiting for her mom to stumble home after dark. But it was the end of a week, the most likely time for her mom to go out and come back well into the night, needing someone to lock the doors and put out spare cigarettes littering the house.

In the end, she shook her head. "Sorry. I need to be home for dinner tonight. How about tomorrow?"

Eddie and Carson gave her near identical smiles. "Yeah," said Carson. "Tomorrow!"

* * *

Out of all of her classes, Danielle hated gym more than anything. 

They were starting track and field this week. Warm up laps were already an absolute nightmare, and track meant constant running, constant movement, and zero opportunity for Danielle to find an excuse to hang back, to huddle in a corner, to rest for the duration of sitting out her turn, or hide from Mr. Roberts’ disapproving eyes. 

“Hurry it up, Danielle, you’re lagging,” Mr. Roberts said after her first lap around the clay track outside, his arms folded around his lanky frame. 

If Danielle had any energy or gumption left, she would have glared half-heartedly at him. Instead, she was distracted by the hot glare of the sun bearing down on her back, and more importantly, the burning in her chest. For more years than she could count, she’d lived with the inability to run long enough without her lungs burning with every struggling inhalation. Spring came with the annual occurrence of a cough that rattled her lungs for weeks, and the thick smoke of her mom’s cigarettes inhabited every room of the house until every breath Danielle took wheezed to the point where it was difficult to sleep. 

By a lap and a half, Danielle was already exhausted and red from the effort. She steadily ignored the beat of her classmates' footsteps as some of them already began to overlap her, focusing on just trying to breathe. It was difficult to not notice how Jamie was already ahead of the pack, jogging steadily with little effort as she and a few of their classmates pulled farther and farther ahead. Danielle scowled enviously after them, trying not to wince at the growing pain in her chest. 

Eddie came up to her next, shooting her a concerned look. He had kept pace with her at first, a quiet steady company by her side to suffer through Mr. Roberts’ relentless drills and heckling, but Kyle had egged him on into a race of who could run the fastest lap, and off he went, leaving her in the dust as if he had suddenly forgotten how much she hated track. She had scowled after him too. 

Now, she tried to smile, feeling it come across as a grimace. 

He slowed to match her pace, and asked in between breaths, “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she lied, the words sending a sharp pain from her lungs up to her throat. She slowed, wincing and pressing a hand to her chest. 

Eddie slowed with her until they were walking along the track. “You should get some water,” he said, pulling her to a stop with a hand on her arm. 

She winced again and dared to shoot a short glance over towards Mr. Roberts, who was scowling at them. “Keep moving, or you get an extra lap!” Mr. Roberts called across the field. 

With a pained huff, Danielle and Eddie resumed walking. 

“Seriously, you should get some water,” Eddie said, wiping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt. Danielle twisted her mouth with apprehension. “It’s not like it’s illegal.”

_ Try telling him that, _ Danielle wanted to say, but even the thought of speaking in between heaving breaths kept her quiet. She briefly considered asking Eddie to come with her. Even if Mr. Roberts allowed only one of them a visit to the drinking fountain, at least she would have Eddie by her side to split his ire.

“Go on,” Eddie said, nudging her with a grin.

“Hey, Eddie! You better hurry it up if you don’t wanna lose!” Kyle taunted as he jogged passed them with a group of others. 

Danielle watched them pass by. She tightly crossed her arms, and in that same moment, her eyes briefly met Jamie’s as she overlapped them again, head turned to glance back at Danielle with a blank expression before turning and picking up the pace. 

Gritting her teeth, her cheeks burning, Danielle left Eddie on the track with one last weak smile and crossed the field towards Mr. Roberts with her fists held tightly to her sides and every breath a struggle. At her request for a water break, Mr. Roberts mouth twisted in more disappointment than he probably had any right to feel and nodded with a jerk of his head back towards the school. 

She didn't get very far. The burning sensation in her chest tightened until it abruptly felt like she was drowning on air. The thought was so alarming that a cold sweat broke out on her skin and she leaned heavily against the wall; her breath started coming in faster and her hands began to shake. She wished the pain and pressure in her chest would stop. She wished Eddie had stuck with her instead of leaving her alone. She wished she had stopped running sooner and stuck up for herself. She wished she could call her mom. She wished she didn’t feel like she was currently  _ dying — _

“You all right?”

The voice shocked her back into her body, blinking her eyes open that she didn’t even realize she had closed. The sight of skinny legs with scabbed over knees greeted her as she swallowed past the lump in her throat and the next panicked and pained breath. Danielle looked up from where she had unknowingly slid to the ground to see the newly recognizable form of Jamie standing a few feet from her, wearing an expression of hesitant concern. 

Humiliation crashed into her like a flash flood. Perfect. The first opportunity to speak with Jamie, and Danielle was curled up on the ground, red faced and having some freak out episode. Pressing her eyes shut, Danielle nodded and folded her arms across her knees where she promptly buried her face, telling herself that maybe if she hid here long enough, Jamie would go on her way and leave her alone. And with any luck and any sense of kindness, she would keep this moment to herself. 

It was quiet for a moment, beyond the sound of Danielle’s wheezing breath, until finally she could hear the sound of Jamie’s shoes on gravel. Rather than moving away, they slowly moved closer until Danielle could hear the ruffle of clothing.

“Is it Roberts, then?” Jamie finally said, her voice measured and calm in a way Danielle wished she felt herself. When she shrugged in response, Jamie huffed. “Prat. He’s gonna blow out someone’s ears with all his whistling one day, I swear. Though, I reckon you could give him a run for his money with the way you’ve been wheezing about.”

The laugh that erupted from Danielle was so sudden, that she pulled her face away from her arms from the force of it. After hesitating for a moment, she finally pulled her eyes up to find that Jamie was crouched in front of her, wearing a pleased grin. Slowly, the corners of Danielle’s mouth flickered into a frail smile, a hand moving to press gently against her chest as it slowly became easier to breathe.

A glint appeared in Jamie’s eyes. “Want me to have to have a go at him?”

Danielle’s eyebrows furrowed. “A go?”

“Y’know, beat him up.” At Danielle’s wide eyes, Jamie’s grin was wolfish and entirely too mischievous. “Could do us all some good I think.”

“You - you’d get in trouble,” Danielle said. “You could get hurt.”

Jamie shrugged. “Bet I could take him. He’d fall over the second I’d try to tackle him.”

At the image of a small skinny Jamie football tackling Mr. Roberts with ease, Danielle giggled breathlessly. At the sound, Jamie grinned again, looking almost surprised. 

“Thank you, but no,” Danielle said finally. 

“Suit yourself,” Jamie said, pushing herself to her feet and calmly looked Danielle over, her head tilted to one side. “You all good, then?”

Danielle took a moment to take stock, to inhale deeply. It was easier now, the moment of rest and the distraction of Jamie making her laugh having helped, but it still hurt, a dull ache like the embers of a dying fire. More than anything, all Danielle felt now was an acute sense of exhaustion. 

When she nodded, Jamie held out her hand. For someone who had been running for the past half-hour, Jamie’s hand was warm and dry when she grasped it and was gently pulled up from the ground. 

“Let’s get some water, yeah? This heat is a nightmare.”

“Is it different? Back in England?” Danielle asked as they made their way to the drinking fountain further along the building.

Jamie winced up at the unwavering glare of the sun overhead, and said, “Definitely didn’t feel like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.”

The trip to the drinking fountain was short, mostly in fear of Mr. Roberts wrath after having already taken so long, regardless of Jamie’s courageous claims of winning in a fight. It was short, but it was still long enough for Danielle to get a sense of this more open and expressive Jamie who gulped down water for nearly a minute straight before splashing it all over her face and hair. This Jamie who leaned against the wall, patiently waiting as Danielle took slow careful sips and chuckled when she followed Jamie’s example and splashed her own face with a shock of cold water. 

Jamie walked back towards the field without another word of what had transpired, and playfully flicked the remaining water on her hands at Danielle’s face with a smile. At Danielle’s flinch and glare, she laughed and said, “Chin up! It’s almost over.” 

When Danielle smiled, shy and charmed, Jamie winked before jogging back onto the tracks. Watching her go, she decided then and there that she liked Jamie immensely. 

* * *

It was a few days later during lunch when once again Danielle caught sight of Jamie sprinting across the grounds like her life depended on it. The small group of four or five chasing her was relentless, not having been the first time Danielle’s spotted them on the hunt. But Jamie was fast, faster than most kids in their grade. It wasn’t like the steady jog she kept up during gym glass, this kind of running was arms pumping and feet pounding, as if she learned how to move that fast from years of experience. The only difference this time was that Jamie was yelling back at them.

“Piss off you fucking wankers!” She shouted behind her as she sped past, the group hot on her tail, jeering and laughing. 

Any other day maybe, if Jamie had never spoken to her, Danielle’s eyes would have widened at the curse flowing freely from her mouth, but today her stomach sank like lead as Jamie disappeared around the corner, away from the watchful eyes of supervising teachers. 

Carson and Eddie’s head shot up at the shout, distracted from their game of marbles Danielle had been observing. 

“What’s...a wanker?” Carson slowly asked.

Eddie’s mouth thinned. “I don’t know, but I don’t think you should say it.  _ Especially _ not around mom.”

As the group followed Jamie around the corner, Danielle’s eyes darted around for any nearby teachers to find none. At the sound of laughter coming from that same direction, panic and worry swelled within her chest, followed by the feeling of swift indignation and an anger that caught in the back of her throat. Before she knew what she was doing, Danielle shot up to her feet, her hands balled into fists. 

Eddie blinked up at her in surprise, and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Someone should do something,” she said.

“Like what?” Eddie sounded so incredulous that Danielle rolled her eyes. “It’s none of our business.”

“Well, I’m making it my business.”

Carson stood up next to her, his face wary but determined. “Should I get a teacher?”

Danielle paused. Getting a teacher had been her first option as well in the midst of her helplessness at the situation, but then she remembered Jamie’s hunched figure at the front of the class, shying away from the principal’s hand on her shoulder, looking for all the world like she would rather be anywhere than at the center of attention. 

“Let’s -” Danielle swallowed heavily. “Let’s check it out first, and then I’ll let you know.”

More serious than she’d ever seen him, Carson nodded and pulled his shoulders back as if that might make him look taller. She spared him one last brief tense smile before starting towards the sound of laughter and yelling around the corner, knowing he’d be following right behind her. 

“Hey! Wait!” Eddie called after them, panicked. “Danielle!”

She did not stop. Instead, she rounded the corner towards the small group crowded around one of the school dumpsters at the end of an alley, only to come to an abrupt stop at the sound of their voices.

“Isn’t that the same shirt you wore yesterday? Don’t you have any clothes?”

“It’s called laundry, you twat,” Jamie shot back, her voice seething. 

“I bet you clean them by the river. Is it true that people who live by the old tracks can’t even afford electricity?” 

“Ew, the river? How backwards do you have to be to clean your clothes there? How do you not reek?”

“Do you remember that scar on her arm the other day? My cousin Charlie said you only get scars like that from cigarette burns.”

“You mean the time you pinned me down and stole my lunch money, sure I remember,” Jamie snarled. 

“Wait, I didn't see it, I wanna see it.”

“Come near me again, and I swear to god I'll bash your fuckin' head in this time.”

Beneath the dark promise of Jamie’s words, there was a sense of panic underlying them that Danielle recognized after spending so many years in the O’Mara household when roughhousing became more than what the younger members of the family could handle. 

“Danielle…” Carson murmured, his voice worried as he tugged on her shirt. 

“Wait here,” she replied, and with her heartbeat rushing through her ears and a storm of indignant fire in her chest, Danielle started towards the commotion. 

The group of kids didn’t part easily, but Danielle was far beyond being polite at this point. She roughly pushed her way forward, ignoring the disgruntled sounds behind her until her eyes finally landed on Jamie, backed into a corner in between the brick wall and the green dumpster, her jaw squared and shoulders hunched, holding herself so tightly coiled that the only noticeable movement she made were her shallow breaths, the trembling of her fists, and piercing eyes that darted around at each face before her. 

When Jamie’s panicked gaze — somehow darker against the furious red flush across her cheeks — eventually landed on Danielle, she blinked. The muscles of Jamie’s jaw stood out as she clenched her teeth, exhaling slowly, as if steeling herself for a physical blow. It made Danielle pause. Sparing her one last look of concern, Danielle spun around. She was met with a collection of stares ranging from bafflement, to annoyed, to faintly amused.

“What’s going on?” Danielle said, bracing her hands against her hips. 

The boy nearest to her, Sterling, shrugged. “Just trying to get to know the new girl.”

“It didn’t seem like that’s what you were doing,” she said.

Jackie, standing just behind him, rolled her eyes and sighed. “We were just having some fun. What’s the big deal?”

Out of nowhere, Carson popped up right next to Danielle. “It didn’t look like she was having fun,” he said. 

Sterling snorted. “What would you know, dork? Aren’t you, like, seven?”

“I’m eight, so shut up!” Carson insisted hotly, his face flushed.

Sending Sterling a glare, Danielle didn’t notice Eddie finally arriving until he was pushing past the group. “Carson!” He hissed, rushing forward to pull a grumbling Carson back to stand near the edge of the crowd, away from the center of conflict. At the sudden movement, almost everyone turned to stare at him. He seemed to shrink away from their gazes, his eyes darting around. Meanwhile, Carson glowered.

“I think you should leave Jamie alone now,” Danielle said, calling their attention back towards her, straightening her shoulders and raising her chin. “She hasn’t done anything wrong, and you’ve already made your point anyways.”

“Aw, is the perfect golden girl actually sticking up for poor little orphan Jamie?” Jackie taunted with a smirk and tilt of her head, blonde hair glinting in the sun. 

Heat spread across Danielle’s cheeks as there was an audible growl from behind her. “Oh, I’ll  _ show _ you little orphan, Pullman,” Jamie said darkly.

Danielle shot her a look so firm that Jamie jerked to a halt, glowering and breathing hard, before huffing and looking down to burn a hole in the ground. When Danielle was sure Jamie wasn’t about to make any sudden movements, she turned to face her classmates again and folded her arms tight across her chest.

“I think you should go now,” she said. 

“Or what?” Sterling asked, mirroring Danielle and crossing his arms. 

She worried her bottom lip for a moment, considering. Eddie, who had by now pushed Carson a little more behind him, stared at her. “Danielle,” he muttered, his eyes flickering around. 

He looked so anxious, so much like he wanted to grab Carson by the arm and run away, but Danielle knew he wouldn’t, that he’d never leave her to face the wolves alone. A pang of guilt struck her, knowing that this was exactly what Eddie had wanted to avoid. They had silently agreed to it, to keep their heads down after surviving their own fair share of ridicule over the years. To keep Carson out of harm's way, and yet, here Danielle was, dragging them right into the middle of it as if she’d lost all her senses. 

Another boy named Roger that she only vaguely knew due to an infamous fighting spree a year ago laughed. “What are you gonna do about it? Stare at us to death?” he said with a cruel smirk, taking a step forward.

Danielle’s heart was pounding in her chest like she had run a mile, and played her trump card. “If-if you try to bother any of us again, I’ll tell Tommy and David.”

At the mention of the elder O’Mara twins, older and bigger than any of them, many of her classmates visibly blanched and shrank back. 

Danielle held her breath. While Tommy and David had no qualms with wrestling around with each other and their younger brothers, they had once retaliated so swiftly and succinctly the last time Eddie had crossed hairs with some boys who had shoved his head in a toilet, that there had never been a repeated incident. Danielle only just happened to be an extension of that protection, being glued to Eddie’s hip for so many years. The closest Danielle could say that Tommy and David’s protective streak reached out to her had been two years ago when a boy had pushed her off the monkey bars at the local park. They had chased him two blocks down the street, and returned completely windswept, shrugging when she shyly thanked them, like there was more fun to be had in the chase than defending their little brother’s best friend.

“Yeah, they’ll beat you up!” Carson shouted.

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, elbowing Carson in the ribs.

Jackie scoffed. “Whatever. I’m bored now anyways,” she said, and began retreating.

A few kids had already begun backtracking towards the main school yard, but at the first sign of Jackie backing down, they all began to shuffle away until all that remained was Roger, who sneered down his nose at Danielle.

Sterling and Jackie lingered by the end of the alley. “Come on, Roger,” Sterling called.

With one last smirk over Danielle’s shoulder towards Jamie, he sauntered away. 

“Bye, Jamie,” Jackie drawled with one last taunting wave and snort, and finally they were gone. 

An exhale escaped from her nose, long and trembling. Her jaw ached from how hard she had been clenching her teeth, and her shoulders finally relaxed from the tense hunched position she hadn’t realized she’d been holding that entire time. 

“Woah,” Carson said, awe in his voice. "That was amazing.”

“Was it?” Eddie said, grimacing. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

Carson made a face and promptly jumped away in case Eddie did just that. 

Turning, Danielle faced Jamie. She frowned in concern, glancing her over for any signs of bruises or scrapes. “Are you okay?”

For a long moment, Jamie didn’t answer, meeting Danielle’s gaze with wide eyes just this side of wild. “M’fine,” she said finally in between gritted teeth, gaze darting back down to the ground. “I was handling it.”

Danielle almost reared back at the caustic tone, blinking in confusion.

“Didn’t seem like it,” Eddie muttered. 

Danielle opened her mouth to tell him off, but stopped when a sizable rock dropped from Jamie’s shaking fist onto the ground. She eyed the rock for a moment, her brow furrowed deeply, before looking up at Jamie with unease. Jamie was still flushed red, eyes no longer panicked but still the center of a vicious storm as she was visibly shaking all over now. She wrapped her arms around torso, coiling tight around herself as if it would stop the trembling. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Danielle asked slowly. 

“Said I was, didn’t I,” Jamie said. 

Danielle frowned, but when she took a step forward with an outstretched hand, Jamie jerked away as if stung. Danielle froze.

When the silence stretched too long, Carson stepped next to Danielle. “I’m Carson by the way, and that’s Eddie, my older brother,” he said softly. “Do you want to sit with us for the rest of lunch?”

Jamie shook her head. “I’m good.” When there was no other response forthcoming in the awkward quiet, Jamie nodded to herself. “Right then,” she said softly, and marched off past Danielle without another word or glance back, disappearing around the corner of the school building.

Danielle felt her face fall as she watched her go and tried to swallow down her disappointment in the form of a thick lump in her throat. 

“Maybe I should’ve offered her some snacks.” Carson said softly, fidgeting with his hands. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, and said, “It’s not worth it, Carson.”

Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Danielle felt herself nodding distantly as she bit her lip, though she wasn’t sure if that statement was true or not. 

* * *

Danielle didn’t really know what she had been expecting. Another day passed of her stomach sinking as Jamie continued to refuse to acknowledge Danielle’s daily morning smile. Maybe a part of her had hoped for something. She just wasn’t sure what. 

At least the bullying had stopped, as far as she could tell. She no longer spotted Jamie being chased about or harassed, but there still lingered a tension in the air, as if a penny was waiting to drop. Of who might be the first to risk Danielle’s proclamation of protection. When Tommy and David had heard wind of it and confronted her after dinner at their house one evening, she had put on her best doe eyes and promised to never do it again if they were to just help keep an eye on Jamie. Just for a little while. They had rolled their eyes and shrugged, surly but acquiescing in that big brother way. It was more than Danielle could’ve hoped for, and she went home that evening relieved and pleased as punch. 

Gym class turned out to be an outlier. For all her cool gazes and apathetic slouch throughout the day, in gym class Jamie lingered _.  _ During laps, instead of taking off ahead of the class, Jamie jogged at a steady slow pace just a little ahead of Danielle, letting everyone easily overlap her. When it became clear that Danielle needed to stop and rest, wheezing audibly, Jamie would take one glance at her and collapse on the grass, splaying out on her back where inevitably Mr. Roberts’ ire would skyrocket, giving Danielle the opportunity to sneak away for water without much issue. Jamie would shrug and smirk in the direction of his red face and take her extra laps without complaint. 

When they moved on to other field sports that didn’t involve running, Jamie would loiter. Arms loosely crossed just a few feet away, indifferent and visibly bored, but Danielle would always still feel her watching closely as she attempted a long jump or a shot put toss, frowning with a twist of her mouth. It always made her stomach tighten and her cheeks flush from embarrassment at her inevitably poor attempts at athleticism. Whenever Mr. Roberts took aim with criticism, Danielle would always turn around to find Jamie glowering darkly at him. Every time, it was as if Danielle could see the wheels turning in Jamie’s head, as if she were genuinely considering football tackling the man. 

By the next week, things remained the same with the exception that Danielle had finally admitted to her mom of her now daily episodes. She was promised a visit to the doctors soon to the sound of her mom’s sigh and a haphazard pat to her cheek. It was scheduled just a little after lunch on a Tuesday, but as lunch came and went, Danielle had completely forgotten about it, because Jamie hadn’t returned to class.

A ball of worry formed in Danielle’s stomach. Maybe Jamie was sick, or maybe she also had a doctor’s appointment. Whatever it was, she tried not to think too much about it, biting at her thumbnail as Mrs. Walker droned on in the background. Even so, she wouldn’t have had time anyways, because soon after lunch, she was called down to the school office. 

It wasn’t a place she ventured too often. If there was one thing Danielle was proud of, it was her impeccable record and her grades. When she arrived and greeted the receptionist, Ms. Reeves with a timid hello, the woman smiled kindly at her and carefully explained that Danielle’s mother had called, citing that she’d be unable to pick her up from school for her doctor’s visit.

“Oh,” Danielle murmured, feeling a sharp ache in her chest. “What about my appointment? Did she say anything about it?”

Ms. Reeves nodded. “She said that she rescheduled for sometime later this week. Is that all, sweetheart?”

Danielle pressed her mouth into a thin line and frowned. The ache in her chest grew, but she swallowed down her disappointment and finally nodded. 

Ms. Reeves smiled kindly again, sending her off with a gesture of her hand before busying herself with another phone call. Danielle hesitated, wanting for a desperate moment to ask if someone else could take her, knowing that if she was able to call Judy, she would agree immediately. Worrying at her lower lip, Danielle pulled away from Ms. Reeves' desk with her hands balled into fists by her sides. She turned to leave the office but jerked to a stop when her eyes landed on none other than Jamie, staring directly at her. She was sitting on the long bench along the wall near the principal’s office, slouched in her seat and holding up something to her face, hidden away in a corner. Danielle’s eyes went wide in the same moment as Jamie’s darted away. 

Risking a glance towards Ms. Reeves, who was still distracted by the phone, Danielle edged her way closer to Jamie. Jamie’s shoulders bunched up to her ears, scowling at nothing in particular, and Danielle could finally see that her knuckles were bruised red and purple. She held a ziploc bag with fast melting ice up to her cheek. 

Danielle swallowed heavily, her stomach twisting, and carefully she asked, “Are you okay?” 

Jamie shrugged. “Fine.”

Danielle looked her over, worrying again at her lower lip as she took in how absolutely miserable Jamie appeared. “What happened?” she asked, and then frowned, amending, “Who - uh - who did this to you?”

A long exhale escaped Jamie. She rolled her eyes and her expression settled into one of resignation. “Roger,” she muttered. “Jumped me in the stairwell. Fuckin’ tosser.”

With a quick glance around to see if anyone heard Jamie cursing, Danielle pressed her mouth into a thin line, and huffed. She was going to have to have an annoying conversation with Tommy and David in the future. 

Danielle wrapped her arms loosely around her stomach, shifting awkwardly on her feet. “What does ‘tosser’ mean?” she blurted out.

Arching a puzzled eyebrow, Jamie shrugged. “Dunno. Just means tosser.”

Danielle nodded, not knowing what else to say except for what she actually wanted to say. Taking in a steadying breath, she gingerly took a seat next to Jamie, eyeing her carefully, and finally said, “I’m sorry they’re so mean.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jamie said, not meeting her gaze, “I’m used to it.”

Danielle blinked at her. “But you shouldn’t have to be.”

Slowly, Jamie finally turned to meet her gaze, her eyes softening, and for the first time, appearing actually affected by Danielle’s words. But, as was expected by this point, Jamie's face shifted to indifference, hiding away whatever vulnerability Danielle managed to pull out of her. 

“S’alright,” Jamie said, then smirked, “You should see  _ his _ face.”

Danielle was actually looking forward to it, but it still didn’t erase the fact that Jamie was also hurt, and now in the office, no doubt awaiting some kind of punishment. She glanced at Principal Davis’ closed door. 

“How bad is it?” Danielle asked, curious.

“Black and blue,” Jamie said with a proud smirk, and then abruptly frowned, flexing her right hand with a wince. “Got his nose pretty good too. That one hurt a bit.”

_ "Jamie Taylor!” _

The pair jumped, startled at the sudden bellow of Jamie’s name. Even Ms. Reeves looked taken aback as they all looked towards the source of the sound where an old woman with silver struck red hair, imposing and livid, marched in with a cane in hand, and glowering directly at Jamie.

“Christ,” Jamie muttered under her breath, “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“What am I going to do with you?” The old woman said, standing before them. “Fighting at school? I’ll scalp your fuckin’ arse.”

“Nan,” Jamie whined. “I can explain, I — ”

“Not until I’m through with you,” Nan interrupted. “Imagine me picking up the phone at work to hear about this after all those promises.”

“Wasn’t my fault,” Jamie said, glowering and sinking in her seat.

“Aye, and I’m the Queen Mother,” Nan snapped. When Jamie only responded with a huff, Nan sighed and shook her head before looking down at Danielle with such shrewd eyes behind thick glasses, that she almost shrank back into her seat. She had an accent both like and unlike Jamie’s. More lyrical somehow. Every word held a burr. “And who’s this, then?”

As if suddenly remembering all her manners, Danielle shot to her feet and held out her hand with a polite smile, and said, “Hello, ma’am. My name is Danielle Clayton, and I’m Jamie’s new friend.”

Nan arched an eyebrow, staring at her for a moment before grasping her hand and giving it one hard shake. “New friend?” Nan said, giving Jamie a curious look who was looking up at Danielle with wide eyes. “Where’d you find one so polite?” 

Jamie shrugged, looking down at her lap with a petulant frown. 

“Might do you some good, finally. Stop you from getting into all these fights.“

“Ma’am?” Danielle started, hesitating briefly when Nan returned her piercing gaze to her. “I just wanted to say that it really wasn’t Jamie’s fault.”

“That right?”

Danielle fidgeted with her hands. “Yes. She was defending herself,” she said. “Kids here can be very mean.”

Nan stared at her for so long, Danielle almost thought that maybe she didn’t hear her, until finally she sighed and looked back at Jamie. “You and I are going to have a very long chat later.”

Still hiding her face, Jamie nodded silently, though she was visibly less tense than from moments before. Seemingly satisfied with Jamie’s response, Nan left them with a nod and marched over to Ms. Reeves’ desk. Danielle watched her go anxiously, avoiding looking at Jamie in fear that maybe she overstepped a line. 

“You’re not,” Jamie suddenly said.

A little startled by Jamie speaking without warning, Danielle faced her with a puzzled frown. “Not what?”

“You’re not mean,” Jamie said quietly, not looking at her. 

“Well, I sure hope not,” Danielle said, smiling when Jamie’s eyes flickered up to meet hers. Jamie smiled back, slowly as if unsure. 

Danielle returned to her seat. “So, how much trouble do you think you’re in?”

“Grounded for life, no doubt. Detention for a couple days too. Could be worse, I guess.” Jamie sighed, finally dropping the ziploc bag from her cheek where there remained some condensation moisture, revealing the dark bruise that spread across her cheekbone and underneath her eye. Jamie winced as she wiped away the wetness, and Danielle almost winced along with her. 

“I was wondering, when you’re not grounded anymore,” Danielle started slowly, briefly glancing down at her lap before catching Jamie’s eyes, “If you wanted to hang out after school. Away from all this.”

Slow like the sunrise, Jamie’s eyes brightened, a smile overtaking her face. “Really?” she said, and at Danielle’s nod, she chuckled breathlessly, “Okay, yeah. You could come to my place? We have lots of cool places to explore there.”

Danielle nodded, grinning wide. Though she was sure she had explored the majority of the town with the boys, the thought of exploring through the new eyes of Jamie was too exciting to pass up. But abruptly, Jamie’s eyes dimmed, her face flickering with a frown as she suddenly looked down. 

“What is it?” Danielle asked, concerned at the sudden change.

Jamie hesitated, her mouth opening and closing, until finally she started, “Danielle, I…”

Some part of Danielle recoiled, the sound of her full name out of Jamie’s mouth sounding so wrong, so suddenly and intensely, that she blurted, “Dani.” Jamie’s eyes darted back to her, blinking in confusion. “Call me Dani. I-I don’t really like Danielle.”

Jamie’s frown was puzzled, as though recalling Danielle’s introduction to Nan, but she only said, “Bit of a boy’s name though, inn'it?”

Danielle shrugged. “So is yours, and I like your name.”

A small smile emerged on Jamie’s face. “All right,” she said, “Dani then.”

The sound of it, said so simply and easily, felt almost like coming up for air for the first time in a year. Danielle bit her lip, containing what would surely be a thrilled smile, until Jamie sobered again, guilt visibly shining in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Jamie said. 

“For what?”

“For the other day. Behind the buildings. With -” Jamie looked down, her shoulders tensing. “- Jackie and Sterling and everyone else.”

Danielle stared at her for a moment. “That’s okay,” she said, nudging Jamie’s shoulder with her own until Jamie returned her gaze, “And you’re welcome.”

Jamie’s shoulders dropped, nodding before exhaling loudly. “Christ, this day’s giving me whiplash,” she said, grinning when Danielle laughed. 

Principal Davis’ office door suddenly swung open, and out walked a balding man and Roger, an eye and cheekbone bruised red and purple, and his nose swollen and stuffed with gauze. 

Smirking, Jamie nudged Danielle in the arm and said, “What’d I tell you?”

Catching sight of the pair of them, Roger blanched, eyes widening as they landed on Danielle before shuffling away with what must be his dad to a bench as far away from them as possible. Danielle glanced back to Jamie to find her glowering after him. 

Before she could have a chance to comment on it, Principal Davis interrupted her. “Miss Taylor,” he said, his voice stiff as steel, holding the door open. 

Nan appeared before them again. “After you,” she said, gesturing with her head towards the office. She tapped Jamie’s ankle impatiently with the end of her cane. 

Jamie sighed and shot Danielle a grim smile. “Wish me luck,” she said.

“Good luck,” Danielle replied, standing along with Jamie to watch her go, to see her pressing her shoulders back and marching towards the office with her jaw squared, but not without twisting around to send Danielle one last wink and cheeky grin. 

Danielle snorted and rolled her eyes, crossing her fingers that Jamie wouldn’t be in too much trouble before finally running back to class.

* * *

The timber-framed house was peeling with paint. Curlicues of white stripped away to expose sun-bleached beams and boards. Danielle stood on chipped concrete steps leading to the front door of a single-story bungalow along the old abandoned train tracks. The front lawn was obscured by a wild tangle of grass nearly as tall as she was, and an ancient oak tree leaned over like someone reaching for a jar in a cabinet, casting her in dappled shade. Sunlight beat down through the leaves, and she rubbed at the sweat beading on her forehead with the back of one hand.

She was still debating with herself whether she should knock or just leave, when the door opened, revealing a familiar old woman. One of her bony hands clutched a wooden cane, and she squinted at Danielle with eyes magnified behind a set of round tortoise-shell spectacles.

"Were you ever going to knock?" Nan asked. "Or were you just going to stand out there all day?"

"Um -" said Danielle.

Nan waited for her to form a coherent sentence, then quirked an eyebrow. "What happened? Few weeks ago you were bold as brass."

Straightening her shoulders, Danielle took a deep breath and announced, "Hello, Mrs. Taylor. I'm here to see Jamie. Is she home?"

"Mrs. Taylor, my fat arse. Call me Nan."

"Uh - Nan?"

"Better." Nan turned and began walking further into the house. "Come along, then. We're all out back."

Cautiously, Danielle poked her head inside before the rest of her followed. When she closed the front door behind her, the only light in the living room was shut out, so that it felt like the interior was encased in dark resin. The walls were wainscoted, clustered with artwork and pictures until the room curled round like a kenophobic mass, and all the furniture huddled within, worn yet comfortable. Danielle hesitated to venture too far inside with her shoes still on, but she wiped her shoes on the mat and hastened after Nan, who had already passed through a door leading to the kitchen and was now pulling at a screen door that opened onto the back porch.

"Your new friend's shown up, love," Nan said, and gestured for Danielle to head out through the door. "I'll put on the kettle. And don't forget that patch at the back!"

Danielle stepped out onto the porch, and there was Jamie kneeling in the backyard, wearing a battered old straw hat and a pair of workman's gloves that were four sizes too large for her hands. Danielle smiled, waving her hand enthusiastically so that her whole arm rocked. When Jamie waved back, the glove went flying, and she said a word that made Nan yell recriminations from the open kitchen window.

"Sorry!" Jamie grumbled, pawing through the grass for the glove, but then her face lit up again and she motioned for Danielle to join her.

The backyard was fairing far better than the front. A line of trees sectioned off the property from the old rail line, but Danielle could still see the tracks extending up the way. Most of the yard had been excavated of its weeds, and piles of uprooted greenery were strewn about, wilting in the heat. The trees had yet to shed their leaves, but they were just going yellow at the edges. It wouldn’t be long now until the ground was covered and crackling underfoot.

Jamie had found the glove and held it up in triumph before she put it back on again. "You came!"

"Well, you invited me," Danielle said.

"Didn't mean you had to come."

"I wanted to."

Jamie beamed, and it was almost as potent as the late summer sun burning high in a cloudless sky. Danielle found herself smiling back before she could help herself.

Nodding at the nearest pile of weeds with the toe of her shoe, Danielle asked, "Did you do this?"

Hands on her hips, Jamie said, "Yeah. Nan made me. Says it builds moral fiber."

"What's that?"

Jamie shrugged and made an  _ 'I don't know' _ sound. Then she reached down and yanked on a particularly stubborn patch of dandelions.

"How do you know which ones to pull up?" Danielle asked. "They all look the same."

With a grunt of force, Jamie wrenched the plant free and shook out the dirt on her knee. "Dunno. I just find the ones that don't seem to fit and -" she chucked the weed into the pile. "- do that."

"But that's a flower."

"An ugly flower."

"It's not ugly. I like yellow."

Jamie grinned up at her from where she moved onto the next patch on the ground. Her shaded eyes seemed to sparkle beneath the brim of the hat. "We can plant nice yellow ones, then. Over there by the house."

Danielle glanced where Jamie was pointing, and saw Nan shuffling out onto the porch with a teapot. The old woman lowered the teapot onto a rickety round table before lowering herself slowly into a mismatched seat. At her feet, the flower beds already bloomed with a riot of small blue flowers.

"Did you grow those ones?"

Jamie shook her head. "Nah. Those were there when we showed up."

Danielle opened her mouth to say something but before she could speak, Nan called out behind them. "Tea's ready!"

Jamie was up like a shot. She raced towards the opportunity to strip the gloves and hat off, and toss them onto the porch while she clambered up after them.

"Use the stairs, you wee scrote!" Nan barked at her when Jamie trampled through the flower beds on the way. 

"Sorry," Jamie said, not sounding sorry at all. 

Danielle was already halfway up said stairs, and Nan pointed towards her. "At least Danielle’s got manners!"

“She likes to be called Dani. She doesn’t like Danielle,” Jamie corrected her.

For a moment it seemed that the two would come to odds — there were narrowed eyes and bullishly squared jaws that made the resemblance between the two unmistakable — but in the end Nan merely grunted into her cup of tea and muttered, “Dani, then.” Her gaze flicked to Danielle and she was scowling. “Could’ve just told me that yourself.”

Danielle had to tamp down the urge to apologize. The force of Nan’s attention was quelling and indivisible. Instead, she turned to Jamie, who was already reaching for a steaming mug of tea, pouring in a dollop of milk from a little saucer. Danielle watched this in confusion, taking the milk when Jamie handed it to her and dumping enough into her own chipped mug so that the tea looked like the bleached pine timbers of the house. It wasn’t until she had spooned a few heaps of sugar into the mug that she realized both Jamie and Nan were staring at her in abject horror. 

“What?” she asked slowly, setting the sugar spoon back into its bowl.

Nan just shook her head and took a sip of her tea. Jamie made a motion for Danielle to follow her, and soon the two of them were seated on the edge of the porch, their legs hanging down so that the bottom of their shoes skimmed the tops of the flowers. Jamie drummed her heels, while Danielle curled one foot up under her opposite thigh. The woodgrain of the boards beneath them dug into her knee and she shifted her weight until she was comfortable.

Jamie had already buried her nose into her mug, nearly a quarter way into her tea. Hesitating for a moment, Danielle lifted her own mug to her mouth. The first taste was a burst of bright sweetness, followed by the barest hint of earthy tea-tones. She made a face and set the mug aside.

"Ruined a perfectly good cuppa, and then doesn't want to drink it," Nan groused behind them.

"It's too hot for a hot drink," Danielle insisted, even as her fingers were curling around the handle of the mug again. "Can I make iced tea next time?"

The idea of a next time had Jamie twisting around to breathlessly await Nan's reaction. Jamie gave Danielle an encouraging grin when Nan just said, "So long as you don't expect me to drink it."

"Want to follow the track and see where it goes?" Jamie asked.

Danielle nodded, but behind them Nan's voice was stern, "Not until you finish your chores."

Jamie whined, but Nan was unrelenting. Chores first. Playtime later. Listening to this exchange, Danielle lifted the cup of tea for another experimental sip. It was still overly warm for a day like today, a day still clinging to the last gasp of summer before the inevitable autumn. She cradled the mug between both hands and craned her neck to watch the others argue.

And it wasn’t like any argument she had seen before between a child and their guardian. Jamie was belligerent in a way that made Danielle tense slightly and peek at Nan for some sort of physical reaction, but Nan only scowled and poured herself another cup of tea.

"You got a mouth like your mother," Nan said sharply.

Jamie's face flushed, and before she could retort Danielle said, "I can help."

The others turned to look at her. There was still the glimmer of a fight caught like a bit between Jamie's teeth, and Nan's expression was beyond stern at this point.

"With the garden," Danielle clarified. "I can - I can help with the garden. And then we can finish faster and go. Right?"

But Jamie shook her head. "No. It's fine. I'll do it quick."

"It's okay. I want to help."

"You can sit with Nan. Drink some tea," said Jamie. "The garden is hard, and you'll start wheezing again."

A hot blush rose up Danielle's cheeks. "I can do it!" She was adamant, gripping the mug tighter. 

"Nan, tell her she can't," Jamie said, twisting around.

Danielle turned as well, the two of them waiting for Nan — an ultimate arbiter as the only resident adult could be, no matter Jamie’s choleric streak — to hand out judgement. 

Nan’s frown had turned quizzical. “Wheezing? You’re sick?”

Danielle studied the milky white ripple of tea in the mug clutched between her hands. The doctor's appointment had finally gone through. Asthma. They'd given her a device that fit over her nose and mouth with a cylinder on the end with proper instructions and apologies. Incurable, they'd said. Just something she had to live with.

“Only -” Danielle licked her chapped lips and said, “Only when I run a lot. Or when there’s smoke. Or in spring. Or -”

Nan held up a hand to keep her from continuing. “Had a cousin like you. Used to beat him in foot races to the neighbor’s paddock.” She lowered her hand with a sigh to the handle of the cane which was leaning against the armrest of her chair. Tapping the end of the cane against the porch, she regarded the two of them thoughtfully. Then, she gave a dismissive wave of her free hand. “Go on, then. Go. Play. But when I flash the porch light twice, it’s time to come home.” 

The effect was immediate. Jamie set down her tea and Danielle barely had time to follow suit before Jamie had grabbed her hand and was hauling her off towards the abandoned train tracks behind the house. 

“C’mon!” Jamie urged and her grin was infectious. 

Danielle found herself stumbling to keep up until she regained her footing. She wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace for long, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Jamie slowed once they’d passed the trees, but she kept their hands linked firmly together. Behind them, Danielle could hear Nan calling after them, but Jamie’s hand was warm in her own, and her eyes were bright, and the day stretched before them like a promise. 

* * *

The first time Danielle brought Jamie over to the O’Mara household, Mike was the only parent home. He greeted them with the smiling befuddlement of a man far too accustomed to seeing strangers’ kids trooping through his house as though they belonged there. He told them to have fun and not break anything, and then gently reminded Eddie that he had baseball practice in twenty minutes. Eddie, eyes widening behind his round spectacles, chucked his bag onto the ground of the atrium and raced upstairs to change his clothes, taking the steps two at a time. 

“Hey! Shoes off, buddy!” Mike yelled after him, then shook his head when Eddie’s shoes came tumbling down the staircase a moment later. He smiled gratefully at Danielle, who was already neatly lining up her shoes by the front door. “At least you always remember.”

Feeling far more proud than was probably good for her, Danielle grabbed Jamie’s hand and tugged her further inside, the two of them pursued by Carson, who was all too eager to have them to himself for the afternoon. Not long after they had pulled out a game of  _ Operation _ , Eddie came thundering down the stairs dressed in his baseball uniform, hurriedly stuffing his curly hair beneath a cap. Carson jerked at the noise, and the buzzer went off as the tweezers touched the side of the board. Laughing, Jamie held out her hand for the tweezers and her turn. 

“Bye, Eddie!” Danielle called out as Mike held open the door, gesturing for Eddie to hurry up so they could get to practice on time. Eddie scrambled around for his mitt, found it, then waved goodbye on his way out. 

“Get the horse one, Jamie,” said Carson, pointing at the board. “I can never get the horse one.”

“All right, all right. Wind your neck in.” 

The front door swung open, and the three of them looked up, expecting Eddie to come charging back inside for some item he had forgotten. Instead, Judy strode through. Her arms were laden so high with brown paper bags that the top of her head was barely visible over them. 

“Eddie, Carson, Danielle,” she said, walking right by them and into the kitchen without a glance in their direction. “Can you please help unpack the car?”

The three of them exchanged puzzled looks. Jamie pointed at herself and mouthed  _ ‘me?’  _ Danielle and Carson both shrugged at her.

“Now, please,” Judy urged, already pulling open the fridge and stowing things away. 

She used that brook-no-nonsense tone that immediately had Carson and Danielle jumping to their feet to do as asked. Jamie shuffled after them looking utterly bemused, and the three trotted to the car outside in their socks — Carson paused by the doorway to jam his toes into his shoes — and carry groceries inside. 

“Oh, thank you, Eddie, honey,” Judy murmured in an absent-minded way, as Jamie deposited a bag on the countertop. 

Frozen in place, Jamie’s face was a mixture of confused and horrified. Danielle snorted. At the sound, Judy glanced over her shoulder, then did a double take.

“You -” she said, pointing at Jamie, “- are not my second youngest son.”

“No,” said Jamie. “Thank god.”

Judy gave a snort of laughter, her mouth pulling into a wide grin which Jamie matched with a crooked one of her own. “Oh, I think we’ll get along just fine,” Judy said. And then she held out the car keys. “Be a dear and put the car in the garage for me?”

Jamie’s eyes lit up, and she snatched up the car keys, scampering outside at the opportunity to drive the car a few feet forward in a straight line. 

“Carson, go make sure your new friend doesn’t crash into the washing machine,” Judy said, her attention already turning back to stashing all of her groceries away in the pantry. Danielle remained in the kitchen, idly peeking into the bags to see if there were any goodies to eat immediately. Judy shut the bread box and tilted her head at Danielle. “So, that’s the new girl in town?”

Danielle ducked her head. “Yeah. Sorry. I should’ve asked before we just -”

But Judy waved her away. “Don’t be silly. The more the merrier.”

From a distant part of the house in the direction of the garage, they heard a crunching noise, followed by Carson’s excited voice.

Sighing, Judy emerged from the pantry. “Finish up here, won’t you, Danielle.” She walked off towards the garage, opening the door and saying, “Well, aren’t you a regular Kowalski, running over my laundry basket?”

Biting back a smile, Danielle continued unpacking the groceries. 

* * *

They found the old tire half buried by the train tracks. Jamie dug it up with her hands as if unearthing buried treasure, and the two of them rolled it all the way back to Nan's house, chatting all the way.

"What are we even going to do with it?" Danielle asked as she pushed at the top of the tire a little too hard and it went careening off in a wide circle. "Oh, shoot!"

Jamie made a whooping noise and chased it down, the baggy flannel tied high at her waist flapping like a cape. Rolling it back with both hands, she said mockingly,  _ "Oh, shoot!' _ You talk like an old lady at church."

Danielle stuck out her tongue at her. "But not your Nan."

"Oh, fuck no," Jamie laughed.

"If I said a bad word around my mom, she'd ground me for a week."

"Yeah, and my Nan boxes my ears. So, we're even, I guess. Here." Jamie shoved the tire towards Danielle, who rushed forward a few steps to stabilize the tire before it could fall over, keeping it rolling.

"So, what are we doing with it?" Danielle asked again.

"I found some rope in the basement," Jamie said. "We're going to hang it from one of the trees and make a swing."

At that, Danielle's eyes lit up, followed by a thoughtful frown. "Is that safe?"

"It's fine. I've seen it done before."

"Where?"

"Movies. You can twist the rope, too, and make the tire spin real fast. It'll be fun!"

It did, indeed, sound like fun, until she remembered — "Tommy did that to Eddie on the school swings last year, and Eddie threw up everywhere."

"Have you eaten recently?"

"Not since breakfast," Danielle answered.

Jamie shrugged. "Well, there you go, then. She'll be right. Pass it here!"

When Jamie surged ahead, scraped knees flashing red with every step, Danielle heaved at the tire with all her might so that it rolled forward. Jamie stopped it with the bottom of her foot as though it were an oversized soccer ball, then proceeded to nudge it along, hopping as she went. Danielle shook her head and laughed, loping easily along to catch up.

They reached the edge of Nan's property, and immediately Jamie left the tire behind to race towards the back porch. Danielle watched from the tree line, sitting down on the tire in a puff of dirt, as Jamie scarpered up the steps and yanked open the back door. She emerged not long later, fly screen banging in her wake, with a long black and yellow construction rope coiled around one shoulder.

Danielle nodded towards Jamie's dusty shoes. "Don't let Nan catch you running through the house with those on."

Jamie waved her off. "She's out. Running errands or whatever."

Unhooking the rope, Jamie unraveled one end and began twirling it through the air to gain momentum so she could fling it up at an overhead branch. The rope fell uselessly back down to the ground, draping itself across Danielle's legs.

Danielle did not move, and gave Jamie an unimpressed look. "Nice one, Taylor."

"Shut it," Jamie said, making a face and tugging at the rope, but Danielle grabbed the end and held on with a smirk. Jamie's eyebrows rose, the corner of her mouth pulling into a smile. "Oh? That how we going to play it,  _ Danielle?" _

The exaggerated lilt of her full name was incentive enough for Danielle to haul back on the rope as hard as she could. She managed to pull a good amount before Jamie yelped and tightened her grip. The tug of war scuffle that ensued was short-lived, ending with Jamie suddenly releasing the rope and causing Danielle to fall backwards off the tire with a cry of surprise.

_ "Shit!" _

"Ohh!" Jamie crowed, pointing. "You swore! Perfect little Dani Clayton said a swear!"

Scrambling upright, Danielle brushed dirt from her hair and back. "You -! You cheated!"

"Won though, didn't I?" said Jamie, and she held up the end of the rope they had been fighting over. She waggled it back and forth, grinning.

"Bet you still can't throw it over the branch," Danielle challenged.

"Oh, you're on."

If Danielle hadn't spent so many years in the company of the O'Mara boys, she might have been less combative with her friends. As it was, she giggled when Jamie cursed fluently with every failed attempt to fling the rope high enough.

"Needs more weight," Jamie muttered to herself, tying the end into knots.

"Needs more muscle behind it."

"You're one to talk," Jamie shot back. "Miss. I-Die-In-Gym-Class."

"Hey!" Danielle said. "I try!"

_ "Stop being lazy, Danielle! Keep running, Danielle!" _ said Jamie in a scarily accurate impression of Mr. Roberts. "Honestly, I could kick him next time he does that, you know."

"Don't. Please. The last thing I want is you getting in trouble with your Nan."

Jamie grinned at her. "Not the principal?"

Danielle shook her head vigorously enough that her long ponytail swung over one shoulder. "No way. Your Nan is way scarier than detention."

"Aye, that she is."

Jamie, finished with the knots, began swinging the rope again. This time when the end skimmed the grass, it trimmed a trail through the lawn, until Jamie whipped it up into the air, where it just managed to sail over the branch.

"Yes!" Jamie punched a fist into the air in triumph, then jogged over to pick up the end.

Danielle stood to join her, dragging the tire with her. "Now what?"

"Uh -?" For a moment Jamie seemed at an absolute loss. She held the two ends of the rope in both hands, staring between them and the tire. "We tie them around it?"

"Test the branch first," Danielle said with what she felt was the most sensible thought of the afternoon.

Far more obediently than she ever was with adults, Jamie wrapped her arms around both ends of the rope and tugged. She sawed back and forth, and even dropped all of her weight onto them. Over their heads, the branch creaked slightly and a scatter of loose leaves drifted down. Otherwise, nothing happened.

"Seems safe to me," Jamie announced with a confidence Danielle could only dream of. "Give it here."

Danielle did so, and Jamie made quick work of the rope. At Danielle's insistence, she rolled her eyes but nevertheless looped the ends around once more before tying them off together over the top of the rubber. When they stepped back, the tire hung off the ground at waist height. It rotated gently in place.

Jamie nudged Danielle's elbow with her own. "Want to have the first go?"

"Mmm," Danielle said uncertainly.

"Oh, come on. I'll push you."

"Well -" said Danielle, but she was already stepping her feet through the center of the tire so that she sat partially through it. She clung to the ropes that held the tire aloft as though they were lifelines, while Jamie circled around behind her.

Jamie's hands covered her own, and Danielle jerked slightly when she felt as much as heard Jamie's voice beside her ear. "If you hold onto that any tighter, I think it'll run out of air."

With a snort, Danielle shrugged Jamie away, but loosened her grip all the same. Jamie laughed softly behind her. Not a moment later, Danielle could feel Jamie's hands at her back. She tensed, readying herself for the shove, but it never came. Instead, Jamie rocked her back and forth, building the momentum up until Danielle was swinging as gently as a pendulum, her toes just barely scraping the top of the grass.

"What?" said Jamie to Danielle's shocked silence. "Did you think I was going to fling you off or something?"

"Well - Yeah. Kind of." All too clearly Danielle could remember seeing David do exactly that to Tommy, so that Tommy was sent sprawling off the swing in a slurry of tan bark.

"What kind of friend do you take me for?"

Danielle felt something warm as honey flooding her ribcage. It was the first time Jamie had, herself, referred to them as friends. And though Danielle had assumed that was the case — of course, it was; it must be — that simple statement made her feel light-headed. As though she had just run a lap around the football field.

Danielle straightened her legs, dragging her heels against the ground to bring herself to a halt.

"Something wrong?" Jamie asked behind her.

"No," said Danielle, and she ducked through the center of the tire so that she could step out onto the ground once more. "I just think I should push now. It's your turn."

Jamie grinned. "Okay."

Unlike her, Jamie on the tire urged Danielle to push her harder, higher. She stood mid-swing, feet planted firmly in the tire's sagging center, hands gripping the ropes, and the shift in weight sent the swing in a wild twirl. Laughing, Danielle had to grab ahold of Jamie's legs to get her to stop.

"You're going to fall," Danielle said, though she returned Jamie's smile.

"Am not." Jamie held out a hand and crooked her fingers. "Come on. Hop on up."

Danielle opened her mouth to demur, but then found herself reaching out to grasp Jamie's outstretched hand when Jamie winked at her. A tug against her wrist, and then Danielle was lurching up onto the tire, which nearly tipped the both of them onto the ground. Danielle yelped, grabbing at the rope and clinging for dear life, while Jamie's laughter rang through the air.

It took a moment of repositioning — Danielle was stepping on Jamie's foot — before they both balanced on the bottom rung of the tire. They faced one another, and Jamie waggled her eyebrows.

"Ready?" she asked.

Danielle nodded.

"Okay. We're going to switch who pushes with their legs to get it swinging. Like this." Jamie lifted her weight slightly from the tire, so that the end leaned out, pushed by the soles of Danielle's shoes. Danielle followed suit, and soon they were chatting away while the swing rocked them back and forth.

"So, what did good ol' Ed want the other day?" Jamie asked.

"Oh." Danielle could feel a flush spread across her cheeks in spite of herself. "Nothing, really. Just to hang out."

Which was true. Eddie hadn't wanted to do anything more than usual. The two of them playing board games where his older brothers couldn't bother them. Teasing Carson, who by virtue of being the baby of the group was always the easiest target of his brothers' dubious affections. It was Danielle who had upended the afternoon. Not Eddie.

Jamie was giving her a funny look that seemed to cotton onto Danielle's skin. She shrugged it away and said, "Actually, I dared him to kiss me."

Jamie's face scrunched up as though she had just bitten into a lemon. "Ew. Why?"

To that Danielle could only shrug. "Jackie at school kept saying — anyway, it doesn't matter. I wanted to try it."

"Yeah, but — with Ed? Really?"

"Who else was I supposed to dare? Carson?"

Jamie rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Anyone else. Bloody hell. It's  _ Ed." _

"I like Eddie," Danielle said, knowing that the statement was somehow both true and false all at once, but not understanding exactly how. "He's a good friend."

"He looks like a mop."

"So do you, when your hair is down."

"Oi!" Jamie pinched Danielle's flank, and Danielle squirmed away from her as much as she could while remaining on the tire, laughing. "So, did he?"

"Did he what?"

"Kiss you."

Danielle nodded. "Yep. And then Tommy told him that's how you get a girl pregnant, so he came back and tried to get me to marry him."

With a snort, Jamie shook her head. "Idiot," she muttered. Then her eyes went very wide. "Wait — you didn't say  _ 'yes', _ did you?"

"What? No! Don't be dumb!"

"Well, I don't know! You kissed him!"

"That doesn't -!" Danielle spluttered. "It's -! It wasn't even that nice!"

"What did you expect?" Jamie looked suddenly curious. "Did he poke you with his glasses?"

"A little?" said Danielle with a shrug.

"Should've taken them off."

"I'll have to remember that for next time," Danielle said dryly, and Jamie looked genuinely horrified at the notion. "I'm kidding. And how would you know? You've never kissed anyone before."

"I have," Jamie said.

"Liar."

"I have!" Jamie repeated adamantly, and she rocked her weight into the next swing so that the tire's arc was pushed higher.

"Who?" 

"Not telling,” Jamie said in a sing-song voice.

Danielle scoffed at that.

The corner of Jamie's mouth curled into a grin. "Why? Jealous?"

"Yeah, right," Danielle laughed. "Jealous of some boy?"

"Wasn't a boy."

It took a moment for Jamie's words to register. When they finally did, Danielle blinked. "Oh." Her brows furrowed. "Was it nice?"

Jamie lifted one shoulder. "Wasn't bad."

The tire swung back and forth a few times while Danielle contemplated this revelation. She was still thinking about it, when Jamie knocked their knees together. "Hey."

Danielle glanced up at her. "Hmm?"

"Want to see just how high we can swing?" Jamie asked, and her face was full of its usual mischief.

The branch had been fine so far even with the two of them. So, Danielle nodded, matching Jamie's smile. "Yeah. Sure."

The tire bowed beneath their combined weight as their feet pushed against one another. On each upswing, Jamie would sink down nearly into a crouch to gain as much momentum as possible, until the rush of air caught in their hair, and Danielle felt a swooping sensation in her stomach every time they began a new steeper descent.

They were too busy laughing, caught up in the exhilaration of it all, that they didn't hear the low groan of the old rope.

Something slipped. Danielle was cognizant only of a hitch, as if gravity stuttered, and then the rope unraveled at the peak of their swing. For a fleeting moment, she felt weightless, rising in a parabolic arc, until the earth was replaced by a revolving sky, and it all came crashing down. 

By some miracle, she rolled, tumbling headlong and landing in a heap, not knowing which way was up. Danielle tried to shake herself free from a heady dose of adrenaline, but her heart was hammering in her chest. She glanced around, orienting herself. She was sprawled on the back lawn, her clothes streaked with green from where she had skidded across the grass. With a wince, she pushed herself upright, but apart from a few scrapes on her palms and elbows, everything seemed to be in working order.

From a few feet away, she heard a low groan of pain. 

_ “Jamie?” _

Scrambling to her feet, Danielle’s head whipped around. Jamie was curled up in a ball nearby, and the tire had flown straight into the flower bed. Danielle staggered over and dropped to her knees. She reached out with shaking hands to roll Jamie onto her back. Jamie did so with a long drawn out moan, clutching one arm to her chest.

“Ow,” Jamie gasped. 

“Are you okay?” Danielle asked breathlessly. When Jamie hissed, Danielle tore her hands away as though scalded. “Oh, my god. Your arm -?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Jamie gave a jerky little shake of her head, and said through grit teeth. “No. My shoulder.  _ Ow.”  _

“Do - Do you have a telephone in the house?” She didn’t wait for an answer, already lurching to her feet. “I’m going to call 9-1-1. Just - Just stay here! Don’t move!”

She got no more than a step towards the house, when the back door opened, and there Nan was, one hand holding a bag of groceries, the other leaning upon her walking stick. The bag slowly slipped from her fingers, and she stared, taking in the scene.

_ “Jesus wept!” _ Nan said, gaping. “What the bloody hell have you two gotten up to this time?”

* * *

Three weeks later Danielle's mom booked the local pool for Danielle’s birthday party, and invited kids that Danielle barely even knew. The day was hot, but clouds blanketed the sky an ocean grey the color of Jamie's eyes. The eldest O'Mara boys were the first in the pool, sprinting off into the deep end with a splash that encouraged others to follow suit. Carson lurked on the sidelines with Danielle — the two of them not confident in their swimming abilities — until Eddie came up behind them and pushed Carson into the pool, laughing. 

"Edmund, be nice to your brother!" Judy called out from near the barbeque, where her husband was arguing with a few of the other dads about how best to operate the grill. 

Eddie just shrugged. He squinted at Danielle — his glasses had been safely left behind on a chair draped with his towel — and nodded towards the pool. "Want to jump in?" 

Danielle looked down at Carson, gasping and paddling furiously in the water, feeling like she should throw him one of the floating pool noodles from shore. He managed to reach the concrete siding and clutched at it like a lifeline.

"Not bad!" Eddie said to him, sticking his foot into the water so he could splash his younger brother in the face. 

Carson spluttered. "Screw you, Eddie!" 

"Carson! Language!" Judy barked. Though how she managed to hear this exchange over the shrieking babble of ten year olds was a mystery. 

"Is the water cold?" Danielle asked. 

Hanging from the ledge with his elbows, Carson shook his head, his dark hair plastered against the back of his neck. "No. It's pretty warm. I think someone peed." 

"Yeah," said Eddie. "You." 

"Shut  _ up, _ Eddie!" Carson lunged for Eddie's ankle in an attempt to pull him in, but Eddie danced out of reach with a grin. 

Danielle glanced around for a ladder into the pool, but the nearest one was being hogged by a group of girls led by Jackie who recently picked up the habit again of calling her names at school and avoided her in the hallways. She scrunched up her nose and looked away. Her eyes scanned the guests for any sign of Jamie, but she was nowhere to be found. Instead, steeling herself for the plunge, Danielle stepped off the ledge, splashing into the water feet first. Her arms lashed out and Danielle bobbed to the surface beside Carson, who was still holding onto the ledge. He'd been right. The water was balmy and her eyes stung with chlorine. 

Wiping at her face with one hand, Danielle gestured to the far end of the pool. "Want to swim over and get some noodles?" 

Carson nodded eagerly, and with a brief exchange of glances, the two of them began splashing in that direction. 

"Hey!" Eddie called after them, suddenly the man left out. "Hey, wait up!"

Behind them Danielle could hear the sound of Eddie jumping into the water and thrashing in their wake. Once in the shallower end, Eddie was just tall enough to stand without his head being submerged, while Danielle and Carson argued over who got the pink pool noodle.

"Pink's for girls," Eddie said firmly. Danielle nodded along. Not necessarily because she agreed, but because she really wanted that noodle.

Carson whined while he awkwardly treaded water with his legs. "It is not! It's just a color!"

"A girly color," said Eddie.

"I like it, though."

"Yeah, but it's my birthday," Danielle said, playing the ultimate trump card that nobody could deny.

Grumbling, Carson let her have it, and took the blue one with a grimace of distaste.

"Thanks," said Danielle.

"Yeah, whatever," Carson said, his voice burbling slightly as he bobbed away in the water.

"If you weren't so short," said Eddie, "you wouldn't need a noodle."

In answer, Carson took said noodle and thwacked his brother over the head with it. A scuffle ensued, Eddie yanking the noodle and flinging it away before shoving Carson's head under the water. Danielle watched them wrestle with amusement, but when the gate leading to the pool opened with a creak, she glanced up to find Jamie pushing through it, flip flops clacking along the pavement.

Jamie's arm was still in a sling. She had excitedly shown Danielle and the O'Mara boys the x-rays of her broken collarbone, and would have taken to carting the black and white photos around in her pocket had it not been for Nan snatching the pictures from her hands and hiding them somewhere in the house where Jamie couldn't find them. This had inevitably resulted in Jamie and Danielle tearing the house apart while Nan was out one day, and — inevitably — the two were found with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. Or rather, with Jamie's feet on Danielle's shoulders as she pushed at loose ceiling boards in an attempt to find a hidden storage space.

Now, Jamie held the gate open with her hip for Nan, who limped through, cane in one hand and a lumpy wrapped present in the other. Danielle's eyes lit up and she waved across the pool. Jamie's head turned, a frown on her face as she scanned the crowded space, until she saw Danielle. She waved back with her good arm, and Danielle began swimming towards her.

"No swimsuit?" Danielle asked when she'd reached the ledge.

"What for?" said Jamie, crouching down on her haunches by the water’s edge and lifting her injured arm slightly. "I'll just get my feet wet. It's okay."

On land, Nan had approached Judy, who was reigning as the host of the party despite only being the next door neighbor. Danielle's actual mom was standing with a group of other parents in the shade, well away from any screaming children, a cigarette trailing smoke between two fingers, and a half-finished glass of wine cupped in one palm. The third glass of the afternoon so far, Danielle knew. She kept count.

"So glad you could make it, Ruth," said Judy, taking the present Nan offered her and setting it atop a small pile on a nearby table. 

“Not at all,” Nan replied. “Couldn’t have avoided it even if I wanted to. The girl’s been talking non-stop about this for weeks.” 

Danielle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your Nan’s name is Ruth?” 

“Yeah,” said Jamie. “Ruth Heron.”

_ “Heron?” _ Danielle repeated. “Not Taylor?”

“Nah. She’s my mum’s mum. Can’t stand my dad.” Then she added, “Or my mum, for that matter. Why?” 

The water rippled around Danielle’s shoulders when she shrugged. “I don’t know. She just doesn’t seem like a Ruth.”

“More like: Ruth- _ less.  _ Eh?” Jamie winked, and Danielle gave a snort of laughter. 

"Danielle!" yelled a voice from the pool. "Dan -! Oh. Hey, Jamie!" 

Danielle turned, and Carson was making his way towards them. Eddie had been waylaid by his older brother, Tommy, who was attempting to lift him from the water with David so they could fling Eddie back into the deep end. From here, Danielle couldn't see Eddie struggling, which meant it must have been an idea cooked up between the three of them as a good time had all around. 

Jamie lifted her chin in a curt nod to acknowledge Carson. "Hey, yourself. Nice pool noodle." 

Carson beamed, balancing his weight atop the pink pool noodle that Danielle had left behind. "How's the bones?"

"Still broken," said Jamie. 

"Damn," Carson said. "I was hoping you and Danielle could throw me in, too." 

"Can't you get Tommy and David to do it?" Danielle asked. 

Carson mumbled something under his breath about how they didn't let him play with them.

Jamie tilted her head to one side. She straightened, kicked off her flip-flops, then gingerly sat back down — careful not to bump her arm in any way — to hang her legs over the ledge and into the water. "Why do you keep calling her Danielle?"

Carson blinked up at her. "Huh?"

Instead of repeating herself, Jamie turned to Danielle. "Didn't you tell them you prefer being called Dani?"

Danielle's mouth dropped open to reply, but no noise came out. What could she say? That Dani had been a nickname used exclusively by her father? That nobody since his death had deigned to use it despite her asking them? That her insistence on it had resulted in a row with her mother that she could still feel the sting of, as though there was a permanent impression of fingers against her reddened cheek? That Judy had told her Danielle was such a nice name, and she hadn't had the heart to correct her again? That it felt rude to impress her will upon a family who had always welcomed her into their home as though she were one of their own?

“It - uh -” Danielle fumbled for a response. “It never really came up,” she lied. And Jamie seemed to sense it, for she scoffed under her breath and rolled her eyes. 

Carson was watching her intently, but his voice was hesitant when he spoke. "I can call you Dani. If you want. Do you want me to tell Eddie, too?"

"No," Danielle shook her head, feeling her stomach clench unpleasantly. "No, it's - It's fine. Really. You can say Danielle. I don't mind."

Jamie arched an incredulous eyebrow at her, and Danielle could feel her face flush.

“But if you don’t like it -” Carson said, slowly, “- why didn’t you just tell me?”

Dani licked her chapped lips and gave a helpless shrug. She felt something drop atop her head. Flinching slightly, she tilted her face up and peered at the sky. Another fat drop of rain landed on her brow, followed by another, and another, until the pool was leaping with scattered rainfall and the air was filled with the shrieks of children caught up in it. Soon, parents were rushing about with bowed heads, urging their kids out of the water and back into their cars. Judy was orchestrating the saving of the presents and food, while Dani’s mom simply sighed and flicked her cigarette stub to the ground so she could shield the contents of her wineglass from the rain. 

Jamie helped pull Dani from the pool, Carson lumbering out behind her —  _ ‘Wait up, Dani!’ _ — so the three of them could sprint for the safety of the awning extending from the changing rooms. Peeking into one of the rooms, Jamie quickly snagged a few towels, tossing one to Dani and Carson each. 

“Reckon I got the perfect present for you, then,” Jamie said. 

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by the crack of autumnal thunder. Dani wrapped the towel around herself. “What did you get me?” she asked.

Jamie grinned. “A new jacket.” 

Sheets of rain were rolling down now. Huddled beneath the awning with Jamie on one side and Carson on the other, the three of them watched the stir of chaos caused by the abrupt shift in weather. Dani had to swallow down the sense of gloom that rose up in her throat as the sky only continued to darken, and another rumble of thunder ran across the plains. At least this birthday wasn’t as bad as last year’s, too soon in the wake of a funeral. 

“Sorry about your birthday,” Carson said.

“It’s okay,” Dani said glumly. 

“Want to have another one at our house?” he asked, eyes suddenly bright at the thought. “You can come too, Jamie. Mom likes you.”

The rain unraveled from the edge of the awning like pulled strings from a curtain. Jamie exchanged a look with Dani, who nodded, before she reached out to ruffle Carson’s head with her good hand. “Sure, mate. Why not.”

And just like that, the day didn’t seem like a complete waste after all.

**Author's Note:**

> chapters to be posted weekly. rating liable to change.
> 
> have fun yall this is a long one


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